Her First Footsteps
by puresunrise07
Summary: But it was alright. He had father. And besides, Arya had liked his present, and in return he had gotten the best present in return. Something Robb won't be able to have. Something that was just for him. His sister's first footsteps.


Jon dripped the melted wax onto the dry parchment and pressed one of the roses that he had picked from the castle godswood before backing up and looking at his work. A wide piece of parchment bordered by rose petals, orange autumn leaves, and flowers waxed to the sides. In the middle of the page, a rough sketch was drawn by the stumbling hand of a six year old. A tall boy with curly hair and a baby wrapped in a blanket, a hand peeking out to join the elder boy's, arrows pointed out of the figures stating 'Jon' and 'Aya' and bellow the sketch in wide and yet shaky letters were written 'I lov you'.

Jon was very proud of himself. He had even drawn little hearts and stars all over the page in different colored inks- he had asked father to borrow them from Measter Luwin as he still was too much frightened by the strange elder man. He knew his baby sister liked colors. Especially bright different ones like blue and green and purple. He also knew she liked flowers. She liked stars in the night sky that she could see through her crib and out the open window. And she liked crème pies as well, and lemons though she made strange faces when she sucked at them which made father laugh, she liked smashing blueberries and covering her face with them, and she loved taking baths, especially the splashing part. He knew everything about her.

It wasn't her name day or anything. That didn't come for months. But he made her a present anyway. Because he loved her. Father often bought him presents just because he loved him. Father had said that he did so so Jon could always remember that Father loved him. He wanted his sister to remember he loved her as well. He had been working on it for weeks, making sure it was pretty enough that she would like it. That she liked it much better than the present Robb had gotten her.

A few weeks ago, Lady Catelyn and Septa Mordane had taken Robb, and Theon and him and even little Sansa to Winter Town to get new cloths and boots and coats as well. They took them every other month, though Jon didn't know why. He had a lot of coats and cloths that were nice and cozy and he had still to wear his funny big red boots Lady Catelyn had allowed him to buy alongside Robb on their last visit. But he liked going to Winter Town. It was loud and noisy and had so many people, and they get to ride in the big carriage and look out the window at the tiny shops. And afterwards, they got to eat fire-roasted corn and warm almond milk with honey.

That day had been warmer than usual, and the mist that usually hung above the crooked Winter Town streets had faded away during the night. The usually frozen water fountain, that stood tall in the town center, had defrosted and glittering waters sprinkled out of it into the pool bellow in short bursts. Lady Catelyn had said it was because the fountain had been frozen for such a long time, it had grown rusty. They had all been sitting by the fountain side, him and Robb and Theon while Lady Catelyn, Sansa, and all her handmaidens stood a few feet away, by a bench and where the carriage stood, going through all the items they had bought.

Theon had told them that down in the Iron Islands, there were a lot of fountains like these all over the place, tall and ancient, of ironborn heroes of old, ships, krakens, sea monsters, and the drowned god and storm god engaging in battle. And how his own mother had once told him that if you make a wish and thrown a coin over your shoulder into the fountain, than your wish would come true. Jon didn't really believe that. He was older now. Six years old, almost seven, he knew fountains didn't make wishes come true, stars did, or the old gods of godswood; father had said so but Robb thought it will be fun anyway. So Lady Catelyn had given each three of them a handful of coins, and they had spent the next few hours making a game out of it. You had to stand three feet away from the fountain and throw the coin into the fountain. If you made it, the other two had to give you two extra coins so you get two extra wishes and if you didn't, you had to give a coin to each of them.

Half-way through their game, while they were counting how many coins they had gotten into the fountain in total, Robb had gasped beside him. Jon stared at him confused as he clambered up and ran to Lady Catelyn. Both he and Theon look after him as he tugged at his mother's dress. 'Mother,' Robb said. 'We forgot to buy something for the baby.'

Lady Catelyn smiled. 'I bought her clothes already, dear. She doesn't need more yet.'

'But wont she be upset, mother? We didn't even bring her with us. Shouldn't we at least get her something, like a present?'

'I am sure she won't mind not coming. She doesn't like noisy places, and she is too small to be outside for too long.'

'I want to get her something anyway.' Robb argued. Lady Catelyn ruffled his hair. She never ruffled Jon's hair. Jon wished she did. He loved it when father did it before putting him to sleep and kissing him goodnight.

'Of course.' She kissed Robb's forehead before opening her pouch and handing him a few coins. 'Go get her anything you like.'

Robb smiled and ran to some shop nearby, with two of Lady Catelyn handmaiden's following close behind. He had stared at Lady Catelyn after Robb had skipped off and Lady Catelyn had glanced back at him for a moment before turning away. He wished he had thought of that, getting the baby a present. He knew if he went up to Lady Catelyn right now and asked permission to buy the baby a present as well, she would have given him the money without question. But he didn't. He didn't like the way she looked at him sometimes. It wasn't in a mean way, not really, not like how the Septa would sometimes look at him. She would always just stare at him for a moment too long, her gaze hard and cold, and slightly confused before turning her gaze away.

Robb had gotten her a rattle. It was wooden, and round with flowers painted all over it, and there was a bow and flowers carved delicately in the handle. Arya had loved when they gone back to the castle and Robb had given it to her. She had gurgled at it as Robb had placed it beside her, inside her crib. She had stared at for a moment, making noises and poking her tongue out before grabbing the rattle into her little baby fist. She didn't it let go for days afterward. She rang it when she fed, and when she took her bath, she rang it awake, and sometimes even in her sleep. Until a few days ago, that is.

She had been in her crib with Lady Catelyn cooing at her from above, holding her rattle and swinging it around like a knight with a sword. She had been holding it above her when her grip had loosened and the rattle landed straight at her head. Jon remembered him and Robb and Lady Catelyn waiting for a moment as she stopped gurgling for a moment, shocked into silence, before her eyes teared up and for the next hour or so, all he could hear was her loud screeches as Lady Catelyn walked her around her room in her arms, trying to calm her down. She hadn't stopped crying until Father had to be called, and she had fallen asleep in his arms. She never touched the rattle again.

Jon thought it will be nice if she got a new present, a nicer one that didn't hurt. He could ask Lady Catelyn to hang it on the wall of her room so she could always see as she lay in her crib. Than she would knew he loved her best, and she would love him too, like how father did.

Jon quickly blew off the burner under the jar of candle wax and put his ink and quills aside. He blew away the extra rose petals and crumbled leaves off the chart and quickly ran out of his room, his present clutched tight in his hand. He knew she won't be in her nursery. Lady Catelyn usually took her to the Small Hall at this time in the afternoon, so she could play with Father and little Sansa while they had afternoon tea. He quickly ran down the grand stair case and past the hallway on the left and turned at the second right hallway that leads straight to the Small Hall.

As he neared the door, he slowed down and suddenly stopped a few feet away from the doors. He grew nervous. He held the paper in front of him, uncertain now. It wasn't _really_ nice. Not as nice as the rattle anyway. Part of the parchment where he had held tightly was crumbled a bit, and now that he looked at it, the drawing was pretty stupid. The blanket he had drawn her in made her look like she was an egg and the hands he had drawn looked more like claws than hands. Maybe they would frighten her too much, and she would start crying like she did with the rattle.

Past the door, he could hear Fathers deep throat laughter and Arya's gurgling and loud squeaking noises she had learned to make whenever she got excited. Jon hid the paper behind his back and peeked through the ajar door. Arya was placed in Lady Catelyn lap and Father was standing above her, holding Arya by the arms, trying to get her to stand up but Arya only squeaked loudly and planted herself down harder into Lady Catelyn's lap. Sansa was beside them dressed in her night gown and her hair in pigtails with her dolly clutched in her hand, jumping up and down and cheering Arya on.

Jon nudged himself closer to the door, eager to watch. Father tried to lift her to her feet but every single time he did it, she dropped to a crawl and cuddled back into Lady Catelyn's lap, making her laugh. Father kept trying anyway, cooing at her to stand up. The third time, she stood for a whole ten seconds before dropping herself again, and crawling away.

Jon grinned, excited and poked his head through the opening. Nobody noticed, with everyone's eyes fixed on Arya as she shrieked and cuddled away into her mothers dress, away from father's outreaching arms. Arya shook her head, her soft baby curls whipping in the air, and wrung out her hands that she had fixed into fists as father tried to grab them. Father laughed again. 'Come on, sweet girl. Come to father. Come on.'

Arya shook her head and gurgled, yapping her mouth as if she was having an actual argument with father. Jon had by now stepped through the door and stood beside it, paper still clutched in his hand, half-forgotten. Father was nodding to Arya, playing along as if he understood a word she was saying.

Jon giggled and sat down on the floor by the door. Father grabbed Arya by the fist and pulled so she would stand up. He than pulled her forward, trying to make her move her feet. She did it this time, moving one foot over the other, trembling and clumsy but determined. Sansa cheered and clapped her hands.

Father slid back, trying to distance himself so she would walk a little more. He still held her by the hand, helping her move along, slowly and gently toward him. At the last two steps, she dived forward and into his arms, shrieking once more. Father gave out another laugh and hugged her close. 'Well done. Aren't you a smart little girl?'

Father placed Arya back into her mother's arms. Jon crawled forward to get a better view. Father got back into place, a few feet away and got her to stand up. She stood eagerly this time, clutching her tiny little fingers around father's own large ones. Father moved a bit farther away still, pulling her forward towards him. Every time she got closer, he moved a bit farther away, willing her to walk almost across the whole room. Halfway through the third time when he shifted back, she caught on to his tricks and planted herself down and gurgled, slapping her hands on to the carpeted floor. Father groaned. 'Come on, Arya. You have almost done it. Get up now. Go on.'

Lady Catelyn joined him on in the cooing but Arya had made up her mind. She slapped her hands to the floor and began to crawl away. Just then, she caught sight of Jon, and began to crawl towards him. Jon laid down his drawing beside him, and opened up his arms towards her. Father turned around, and smiled at him. Lady Catelyn's laughter had quickly faded away and was replaced with a weak smile.

Father got up from the floor, and dusted of his pants, giving up on trying to make Arya walk anymore today. Arya crawled forward quickly, and just then, tried to stumbled up clumsily onto her feet. She fell down and landed on her behind. Jon was worried she would start crying but she only tried to get up, slowly now, reaching out with her arms.

Father gave a chuckled gasped and moved quickly behind her in case she fell down again. Arya stood for a moment, tried to find some balance on her trembling feet. Then she moved one leg forward, Jon looking on excitedly, and then another. Father cheered and said. 'Quick Jon, crawl up a bit closer. Go on.'

Jon did eagerly what father asked, giggling and still reaching out his arms towards Arya. 'Come here, Arya. Come to Jon, come on.'

Arya than placed another foot in front of the other, and than another. Father kept pace with her baby steps. Sansa quickly raced towards them, eager to look and clap her hands in excitement. Arya moved forward slowly and slowly, one foot after another. On one step, she trembled slightly, and Jon thought she would fall down but she kept moving forward. Before he knew it, she got to him and dived into his arms, her tiny arms clutched around his neck. Jon laughed and hugged her close.

Father laughed and picked Arya from his arms, planted a kiss on her nose before handing her back to him. 'Her first steps, at 8 months. This one is a quick learner. 'He said turning to Lady Catelyn, who still stood in her spot. Sansa was hugging her father's leg, begging to be kissed as well.

Jon turned back to Arya in his arms, and hugged her close. He kissed her chubby cheeks as she grabbed at his curls, and turned behind to pick up the drawing he had left on the floor. He placed her in his lap and showed it to her. 'Do you like it, Arya?' He said, looking at her. She turned toward him, looking up at him, with dark grey eyes, just like Father's, just like his.

Saliva dripped down her chin, as she poked out her tongue. She patted her hand against his cheek and grabbed his hair in her fist and than placed it in her mouth. Jon giggled and kissed her once more. 'That's me.' He said, pointing to the tall figure with his brown curly hair and big red boots and then he pointed towards the baby he had drawn. 'And that's you. See.'

She slapped her hands on to the drawing, eager to touch it and the bright flowers that were stacked on it. Father kneeled beside him, and pulled Arya into his arms. He pointed to the drawing. 'Now, what's that?'

Jon pushed it towards him eagerly. 'It's a drawing. I made it for Arya, as a present. Do you like it?'

Father picked up the drawing and held it before him, his eyes serious as he glanced over it. He nodded. 'This is fine work. A good present for a little sister.' He smiled towards Jon.

Jon grinned. 'I made it so we could hang it her room, so she could look at it all the time, when she is in her crib. Do you think we could? Hang it on her wall, I mean.'

Father nodded. 'I think we could. What do you think, Cat?' He turned toward Lady Catelyn. Jon looked as well. Her smile had completely faded away and she only gave a nod to father.

'I will ask Measter Luwin to have it framed.'

Jon smiled widely. 'Thank you, my lady.'

Lady Catelyn gave him a weak smile, though her eyes were cold as usual. 'Of course.' She picked up Arya from father's arms. 'The baby must be tired. That's a lot of exercise for a day. I better put her to sleep.'

She walked out of the room, Sansa trailing beside her, dragging her dolly at her feet. She had forgotten his drawing behind. His father glanced at it, than at the place where Lady Catelyn had stood. He than picked up the drawing and got up, pulling Jon up to his feet.

Father ruffled his hair. A strange smile was on his face, sorry and sad. 'Come on, we better go give it to Measter Luwin so he can have it framed. I don't think Arya would be able to go to sleep tonight without it.'

Jon nodded, and walked beside his father. He knew Lady Catelyn wasn't happy. He didn't know how he knew, he just did. It sort of made him sad, he supposed. It would have been nice if she had been happy and ruffled his hair and kissed him like she did with Robb. But it was alright. He had father. And besides, Arya had liked his present, and in return he had gotten the best present in return. Something Robb won't be able to have. Something that was just for him. His sister's first footsteps.


End file.
